


Partings are Sweet Sorrow but Your Lips are Sweeter

by ActualWritesThings



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Intercrural Sex, M/M, Quickies, Unbeta'd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 08:24:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13383957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActualWritesThings/pseuds/ActualWritesThings
Summary: Three clones with not nearly enough time to themselves.





	Partings are Sweet Sorrow but Your Lips are Sweeter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Starofwinter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starofwinter/gifts).



> Loudmouth belongs to [Jesse!](http://thebisexualmandalorian.tumblr.com)

Trick cannot believe this is his life now, cannot fathom that he’s somehow gotten lucky enough for _this. This_ being the sight in front of him: Nuhunar pressing Loudmouth against the wall and kissing him breathless. Nuhunar has one hand wrapped tight around the back of Loudmouth’s neck, the other feverishly working at the lower part of his blacks, trying to push them down. It’d be easier if Nuhunar moved his knee from where Loudmouth was rocking against it, but the noises Loudmouth’s making as he grinds against it are so sweet Trick can understand wanting to hear them again and again.

They just don’t have the _time._ The 382nd has only been with the 212th for only one op, and they’ve all been run ragged by it. And now it’s over and they’ll be parting ways in less than a few hours. Which means there’s barely any time to do this before they have to leave again, jump to the next system and the next battalion that needs their help.

So they’re pressed up against each other in an out of the way service corridor, Loudmouth’s back against the exposed pipes, Trick stuck off to the side as he watches Nuhunar kiss like he can make up for lost time. Even from here, Trick can see when Nuhunar gets his teeth involved, biting down on Loudmouth’s lips hard enough to bruise. He’s not sure whose moan is louder, his own or Loudmouth’s. Both are loud enough to damn near echo in the enclosed space, but none of them care. They’re hardly the only group making the best of what little time they’ve got.

Still, the need coursing through Trick’s veins is enough to make him dizzy with it. So he’s nudging Nuhunar aside, pulling Loudmouth into a kiss. He relaxes into it, wraps himself tight around Loudmouth. “We missed you,” he manages in between kisses, rocking his hips against Loudmouth to emphasize the point. The soft noise Loudmouth makes in response is all the prompting Trick needs to keep going, rocking further against Loudmouth even as his hands move to Loudmouth’s front, trying to get his blacks off. Somehow, he manages to get the lower half pushed down, enough to free Loudmouth at least.

The sound of a ripping of lube packet and then Nuhunar gently pushing him away keeps him from falling to his knees and worshipping Loudmouth like he truly wants to. But Nuhunar has his blacks down, and he looks as awestruck as Trick feels, so it’s still good. Better than good given how Nuhunar’s stroking himself like he has all the time in the world and not just this short stolen moment.

“Turn around Lud’ika,” Nuhunar orders, voice low and husky, “I want to fuck those gorgeous thighs of yours.” Loudmouth obeys, somehow not tripping on his blacks, hands bracing him against the wall as he presses his thighs together.

If they had time, Trick would take the shirt off Loudmouth, trace the roses blooming on Loudmouth’s chest until he knew them perfectly. But they don’t; they have a few hours at most before they have to part ways with the hopes of being able to see each other again. So Trick settles off to the side. He ghosts a hand over the front of his blacks as he watches Nuhunar drip lube down Loudmouth’s thighs, coating them. He’s not sure who moans first at the sight, him or Nuhunar or Loudmouth.

“Fuck I’ve been waiting to do this all _week,_ ” Nuhunar rasps, voice already wrecked as he presses his cock between the slick heat of Loudmouth’s thighs. “Gods Lud’ika.”

Trick can’t tear his eyes off of them, how Nuhunar’s settled in perfectly behind Loudmouth, how he mouths at Loudmouth’s neck as he rolls his hips. Loudmouth’s wrapped a hand around a convenient pipe, holding it tight as he meets Nuhunar’s thrusts with his own. The sight’s enough to make Trick lose his composure, shove his blacks down and wrap a hand around himself, jerking in time to Nuhunar’s thrusts.

It won’t take any of them long. They’re all too pent up and too desperate to feel each other. That doesn’t keep Trick from reaching out, wrapping a hand around the back of Loudmouth’s neck, pulling him into a kiss. It’s an awkward angle, but it’s so wonderful Trick can’t be bothered to care. The way Loudmouth’s gasping into it more than makes up for the fact that a pipe’s jammed into the small of Trick’s back.

“Gods Lud’ika. How are you so perfect?” Trick’s voice is reverent. And Loudmouth just moans in response, eyes barely open as he tries to keep looking at Trick, soft little gasps escaping as Nuhunar keeps his pace steady, hands tight on Loudmouth’s waist. “Come for us Lud’ika, let us see you.”

That’s all it takes before Loudmouth closes his eyes and shudders as he comes, words that could be their names dropping from his lips.

Trick can’t keep from increasing his own pace, spilling into his hand with a gasp before slumping against Loudmouth, smearing his spend against his thigh. Nuhunar follows after the two of them, pressed tight against Loudmouth, biting at his neck hard enough to bruise. The knowledge that Loudmouth will be walking away, back to the 212th, with Nuhunar’s marks, with their seed, all over him is almost enough to make Trick ready for a round two. Almost. Instead, Trick just sags against the two of them, catching his breath.

Soon they’ll have to clean up, to go their separate ways as their battalions march off to different corners of the galaxy. Soon. Not yet. Right now, they’re making the most of what moments they can steal. It’s all they get and it has to be enough. Until they march on for good, it has to be enough.


End file.
